


insensible of feeling

by viviansternwood



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Set in 1x07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 01:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20883767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viviansternwood/pseuds/viviansternwood
Summary: Well, maybe it was for the best that Mr Sidney Parker appeared so engrossed in his past lover. Even if he ever entertained the idea of courting Charlotte, one could hardly find a more ill-suited pair than them. They would quarrel at every turn, and there would be no end to misunderstandings and hurt feelings. They were far better off apart than together.OR: Charlotte is doubting Sidney Parker's affections, but an accident gives him a chance to reassure her.





	insensible of feeling

**Author's Note:**

> My first Sanditon story, hello, fandom! <3

“Yes, well done, children,” said Mrs Campion, and as Charlotte watched her and Mr Parker continue on their way, she marvelled at the woman’s ability to disguise an insult in an appraisal.

She struggled to return her attention to building the sandcastle and did her best to listen to Henry and Jenny’s chatter about showing their construction to their parents once they are finished with it.

Well, maybe it was for the best that Mr Sidney Parker appeared so engrossed in his past lover. Even if he had ever entertained the idea of courting Charlotte, one could hardly find a more ill-suited pair than them. They would quarrel at every turn, and there would be no end to misunderstandings and hurt feelings. They were far better off apart than together.

And yet the mere thought of Mr Parker falling in love with someone who was not her brought up a wave of nausea inside her. She had thought, foolishly, as he had spun her in that danced and had smiled down at her, that it had meant something for both of them. But it appeared now that it had all been her imagination playing a trick on her. Unless the mere sight of Mrs Campion had knocked all thoughts of Charlotte out of Sidney Parker’s head. She couldn’t blame him. He had loved her once, after all. From what she knew of love, it was much easier to rekindle old feelings that spark up new ones.

She’d read enough to know what was going to happen. Mr Parker and Mrs Campion would be estranged for some time, then they would spend more and more time in each other’s company and realise that the years they’d spend apart hadn’t mattered as much as being together. Charlotte had to agree with Tom Parker, that their happy ending was a definite possibility.

And there was also that undeniable charm about Mrs Campion that Charlotte had always wished she could possess. She was elegant, sophisticated – the kind of lady who would never stoop to building sandcastles with children, for the possibility of making her hair and dress a frightful mess. The sort of lady who would never venture outdoors without her hair neatly done up. Charlotte, however, had never liked the business of hairpins and braids, and preferred comfort, which may well be why Mrs Campion’s pseudo-compliment had been so well-calculated. There was no good reason why someone as experienced and worldly (and attractive, but she tried not to think about that a lot) as Sidney Parker would ever prefer someone so naïve and provincial as her to the beauty and grace of Mrs Campion.

Charlotte was so anxious that she could have easily spent hours contemplating the issue, but the sudden movement from Jenny’s side made her head snap up. In a matter of mere seconds, the little girl had gotten up from her spot on the sand where she had previously been busy working on the castle, and was now running towards the water. Alicia, who had been standing aside, followed.

“Jenny! Alicia!” Charlotte called out after the sisters, but was ignored.

A feeling of dread encompassed Charlotte – the children were not allowed anywhere near the water – and, without thinking, she got up, took Henry by the hand (for the fear of leaving him unsupervised), and chased after the girls, crying out their names in the hope to get their attention. The boy was slow, his little legs not quite matching hers in speed, and she had nothing left to do but pick him up and venture further.

At some point nearer the water, she stepped into a dug out hole in the sand – probably by someone making a sandcastle earlier – and her ankle twisted at a peculiar angle, sending a jolt of pain up through her leg. But Charlotte ignored it and, moments later, caught up with the girls. Fortunately, it turned out they were just planning to gather shells, without even seeming to consider of going anywhere near the water.

“Why did you run off like that, Jenny? Alicia?” Charlotte asked in a stern voice and with a furrowed brow. She finally had the chance to put Henry down and felt the tension in her back relieved. “Your mother will be very cross when she finds out you took off without telling me.”

The children were full of regret and begged pardon, looking up at her with their eyes filled with tears, so Charlotte forgave them, and the whole party returned to their earlier place. Charlotte noticed it was increasingly more painful to step onto her right foot, and now that the fear and excitement of the moment dissipated, she thought much more of the pain.

By the time they arrived at their sandcastle, she could barely hide her reaction to the pain, and Mr Parker, who was just returning from viewing the bathing machines with Mrs Campion, must have taken notice of her limp, for her hurried over to her side.

“What is the matter?” he asked, direct as always.

“Nothing,” said Charlotte, blushing with anxiety at his sudden attention. “I twisted my ankle slightly, but it is nothing. The pain will pass soon.”

“You can scarcely walk. You need to be seen by the doctor,” he declared.

“No, please, do not bother—”

“Tom!” Sidney Parker called out, ignoring her protests, to Mr Parker, who stood, engrossed by conversation to a gentleman, not too far off. “Find Dr Fuchs. His urgent help is needed!”

His brother nodded, and was off.

“We need to find you a seat and elevate your foot. Can you walk at all?”

Charlotte looked in his face, his eyes full of genuine worry. Mrs Campion was standing aside, watching them both with an unreadable expression on her face. For the sake of her own dignity, Charlotte wished she had no need of Mr Parker’s help, but had nothing else to do but shake her head in response to his question.

The next thing she knew, Sidney Parker was lifting her in his arms. She let out a small yelp of surprise, and, to keep balance, her arms fell around his neck. Their faces were very close, and Charlotte hardly knew what to think or how to feel. It was as if all the air was suddenly sucked from her chest and was replaced by this indescribable tension she had never experienced before.

“I am far too heavy to be carried this way,” was all she could say, feeling shy and self-conscious and light-headed, and very, very confused.

“Nonsense,” was his only response, and then he smiled, warming her up from head to toe.

The moments in which it took him to carry her over to the chairs installed in the tents further off shore felt like an eternity. She could do nothing but look him in the eyes, enjoying being this close to him a little too much for her own comfort. He looked back, his gaze as intense as it had been when they had dance together.

“Please, return to Mrs Campion,” said Charlotte after she was settled in a chair, her injured foot propped up on another. “She is your guest, so you can hardly leave her alone.”

But Sidney didn’t even spare a glance at his past love, who was presently engaged in a conversation with Mr Denham. Instead, he found another chair and sat facing her, trying to fit a pillow under her foot while being as careful as possible so as not to jostle it.

“You require my attention more than she does, don’t you think?”

_Require my attention_, thought Charlotte bitterly. _Like a helpless child that she is._

She wanted to insist. To show him she didn’t like him thinking of her as a child, that she didn’t need anyone’s help. But his hand was resting on the chair where her foot was propped up, and he was watching her, and his presence had such a comforting and calming effect on her that she said nothing.

Dr Fuchs arrived in haste and, having examined Charlotte’s ankle, determined that it was not broken, but would swell up and get more tender, which therefore meant she needed to be taken back to town so that she can rest and move her foot as little as possible. He also instructed her ankle to be bound so as to reduce pain, for which, to Charlotte’s complete mortification, Sidney Parker readily volunteered his neckerchief.

“She needs to be transported very carefully,” he explained, “and she is to take some madeira for the pain. Normally, I would prescribe laudanum, but wine is far more suitable for a young lady of light build.”

“The carriage—” Mary Parker started to say, but was interrupted by Sidney.

“I can carry her,” he declared in a tone that left no room for argument, and, in truth, Charlotte had no wish to argue. She _wanted_ him to hold her again, and the admittance of that to herself made her cheeks warm up with flush.

“A carriage ride may jostle her foot, it will do very well if Mr Parker transports her in a much less stressful manner, like he carried her here,” Charlotte’s head whipped to look behind her to see Lady Susan who had obviously arrived at some point earlier and had been silent before that. She had a mischievous glint in her eyes as she smiled at Charlotte.

“That will be much safer indeed,” Dr Fuchs affirmed, and it was all settled.

The walk to Trafalgar house was by no means a long one, but it was just them two the entire time, and the realisation of that made Charlotte’s heart beat faster. How peculiar it was, that before the ball at Grosvenor Square, she had neither enjoyed nor sought his company. How everything was changed now.

Seeming to think that Charlotte was silent and deep in thought because of the pain in her ankle (and she was affected by that in part, but mostly by being in his presence – something that made it strangely difficult to collect her thoughts), Mr Parker attempted to distract her by making small talk: asking about her family and life in Willingden. She answered to the best of her ability, all the while thinking about his hand on her back.

Once they arrived at the house, Mr Parker softly placed her on the settee in the drawing room, setting up a pillow fort to put her foot on. He then asked for some madeira to be brought for her and, to Charlotte’s surprise, moved up an armchair to once again sit facing her.

“You mustn’t stay with me, Mr Parker, out of politeness” she said, feelings anxious and uncomfortable at inconveniencing him further. “I will be perfectly fine on my own. And I shouldn’t want you to miss the regatta.”

He sighed. “Miss Heywood, by now you should know that I rarely do anything simply because decorum commands it.”

Suspecting that she could be misunderstanding him, Charlotte nevertheless dared to hope that must have meant that he wanted to stay with her.

Madeira was brought in on a tray, and Mr Parker poured a large glass for her. He handed it to her, and Charlotte drank obediently. The taste was too strong — her not being used to anything but diluted alcohol — and Charlotte tried not to make a face, but Sidney noticed.

“I know,” he said softly, agreeing on the horrible taste. “Down it, sweetheart.”

And then, while Charlotte was still computing the fact that he used such a personal (and inappropriate, but head-spinning) endearment, he took her left hand, probably in encouragement. Except it was so unexpected and overwhelming that Charlotte nearly choked, but somehow ended up finishing the glass.

“Well done,” he praised, not letting go of her hand as he passed the glass back to the servant girl. “That should do for several hours — then you shall have to take more.”

For someone as unaccustomed to alcohol as her, the wine went straight to her head, and she wondered whether the soft buzzing on her skin was because of that or because of Mr Parker sitting so close to her. Then, the latter proved to be the case, for he kissed the back of her hand softly, and the buzzing increased. She found it hard to breathe evenly as she looked in his face.

“Shall I read to you?” he offered, his voice even softer than before, his eyes peering into her face.

Charlotte closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying this feeling: him with her, his attention on her and no one else. She nodded.

“What would you like to hear?”

“There’s a copy of _Camilla_ on the window in the study,” she said, remembering the book she had purchased once she had arrived in Sanditon, but never managed to read farther than the fifth chapter. That seemed like an eternity ago by now.

“Ah. Give me a minute,” Sidney said, and went off in search of the book.

Before he was back with the book and a blanket for her, Charlotte reclined in her seat more comfortably and took off her jacket. He took his earlier seat, opened the book where the bookmark was, and (to her surprise and delight) took her hand once again.

“Chapter six: tuition of a young lady,” he started. “The fair Indiana participated not in the philosophy of her preceptor. The first—”

“Mr Parker,” Charlotte interrupted, and he met her gaze. “Thank you.”

He smiled in a way that she had only seen him smile in that opulent ballroom in Mayfair. Then he nodded, and went on with the book. He read well, making up different voices to mark characters, and Charlotte barely noticed as she slowly but surely slipped into a healing sleep. Somehow, she wasn’t anxious about waking up and not finding him still there.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and please, review!
> 
> Be sure to find me [on tumblr](https://viviansternwood.tumblr.com/).


End file.
